


a leaf in a storm

by mangorat



Series: cleaning out my google drive [2]
Category: Naruto
Genre: Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Nightmares, Second person reader, depictions of ptsd, gender neutral reader, no specific details of trauma, unfinished scrap
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-19
Updated: 2020-08-19
Packaged: 2021-03-06 07:54:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 320
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26000074
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mangorat/pseuds/mangorat
Summary: the reader helps zabuza cope with the remnants of his past
Relationships: Momochi Zabuza/Reader
Series: cleaning out my google drive [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1887082
Kudos: 7





	a leaf in a storm

Zabuza often cried out in his sleep. He never told you what he saw there, but he’d wake up with tears streaming down his face. Sitting up, he’d pull you onto his lap and cradle you against him until his tears dried up. 

“I love you,” he’d say, over and over again. And his voice would shake like a leaf in a storm and his hands would hold onto you as if one strong breeze would rip him away. After a while his words would slur from panic and exhaustion.

“I love you too,” you’d say, and the two of you would stay that way until he fell back into an uneasy sleep.

Sometimes he’d be so exhausted the next morning that he’d sleep well past sunrise. You lay beside him, watching him. Now his chest rose and fell peacefully, but you couldn’t help but remember all those times he desperately sucked in air around his wet sobs. If only it could be like this forever. 

“I know you’re watching me.”

“It’s nice to see you so happy,” you said, burying your face in his scarred shoulder. 

“You’ll be late for work.”

“I don’t like leaving you here by yourself, Zabuza.”

He grunted, and leaned over to kiss you on the forehead. “I love you.”

“I know you do. I love you too.”

You really didn’t like leaving him alone. He was capable of taking care of himself of course, but there was something inside you that wondered if he had one of his panic attacks while you were out. His arms were stiff from an old injury, his fingers not articulated enough for typing on a keyboard or writing with a pen. Finding work was difficult for him, so he stayed at home while you worked to support the two of you.

“Zabuza, I could leave my job you know,” you said. “I want to make sure you’re alright.”

  
  



End file.
